


Mad World

by Sutured_Sentiment



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Amnesia, Conspiracy Theories, Dark Past, Depression, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of attempted suicide, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Paranoia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, So much angst, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Triggers, klance, they/them pronouns for Pidge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9612524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sutured_Sentiment/pseuds/Sutured_Sentiment
Summary: Keith Kogane was admitted into the Altean Mental Institution with a case of dissociative amnesia and no family to speak of. When he first arrives, he's intrigued by his roommate, a boy named Lance who seems about as normal as you can get all things considering. He doesn't really belong here does he?As he starts trying to put together the complicated puzzle pieces that are Lance, he slowly finds himself finding more and more pieces of his own life story. But as more secrets are uncovered and brought into question, Keith may just find himself getting more than he bargained for. Sometimes the past should stay forgotten.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I studied these disorders a bit in my abnormal psych class, but I am by no means an expert. I will try to stay as accurate as I can, but some things may differ from the truth just a bit.  
> The story and chapter title comes from the song "Mad World" by Gary Jules.

He woke with a start, his heart beating heavily against his ribcage. He sat up and looked around frantically, but found that nothing about his surroundings was even remotely familiar. He was laying in a bed, his feet tangled in a bundled mess of blankets. So, he could only assume he was in a bedroom of some sort. The cream-colored walls around him were incredibly bare, lacking any real personal touch aside from a lone poster hanging limply by a single corner, it's bold font reading simply, "I Want To Believe". A simple wooden desk was pushed up against the wall opposite him. Books sat in random, precariously balanced piles scattered around the room, covers worn and papers sticking every which way from their bindings. Notebooks upon notebooks lined the single bookshelf next to the desk.

He kicked at the blankets wrapped around his legs and jumped out of the bed, the beginnings of panic making itself known, settling deep in his gut. He raced from the room, finding himself in a little living room of sorts, leading into a very less-than-impressive kitchen. The place seemed completely empty of anyone else but himself, and the only light came from the full moon outside, shining softly through the partly cracked blinds of a single window. He quickly located a phone attached to the wall and pulled it from it's place, clutching the cord tightly in a trembling hand as he quickly dialed the one number he could think of; 911.

" _911, what's your emergency,_ " a female's voice asked through the receiver.

"I don't know where I am! I just woke up in a strange house and I have no clue how I got here," he cried frantically, his voice bordering on hysterical.

" _Ok, I need you to calm down, sir. Is there anyone in the house with you?_ "

"No. No, it's just me."

" _Now, is there a window anywhere? Somewhere you can look out and figure out the address of your location?_ " He went as far as the cord would allow and peered through the blinds. He squinted his eyes to read the sign across the street.

"I'm on Balmera street." He looked over in the driveway.

"And there's a red motorcycle parked in the driveway," he offered.

" _Alright sir, we've got police on their way. Please stay on the phone with me until they get there. And can I get a name?_ " He froze, his eyes wide as he violently wracked his brain. His breath caught in his throat as he stared blankly at the wall, a sense of hopelessness gripping at him.

"I... I don't know. Oh god. I don't know who I am!"

" _Sir? Sir, please, I need you to keep calm. Take deep breaths_ -" The rest of her sentence was lost to deaf ears as he slumped against the wall, letting himself slide to the ground.

_I don't know who I am._

　

The next day, he was admitted into the Altean Mental Institution, with only a suitcase of clothes and the information that had been given to him. From what the authorities had been able to tell him, his name was Keith Kogane and he was suffering from a disorder known as dissociative amnesia. He was 16 and had very little to his name... and up until now, he'd been missing for 10 years.

A kind lady greeted him at the doors, her bright eyes twinkling cheerfully and crinkling at the corners. Her was long, flowing all the way down to past her waist, and shockingly white. She introduced herself as Allura. He grunted in acknowledgement, ignoring the hand she offered. If she was offended, she didn't show it. She turned around and lead him down a few narrow halls, telling him everything was. For the most part, he ignored her, too lost in his own thoughts. His head hurt from trying to fit the missing pieces of his life together. He glared at the floor as he continued to follow Allura. They stopped in front of a plain white door, where she informed him he would be staying for the course of his stay. According to her, he would be sharing this room with a boy named Lance.

"We'll send someone to get the two of you when lunch is ready. Until then, you can use this time to get settled and get to know Lance," she said. Keith nodded, but said nothing as he opened the door and walked in, not giving her a second glance as he quickly shut it behind him. It took his mind a moment to process what exactly his eyes were suddenly seeing. The walls were a storm of colors. One wall looked as if someone had thrown buckets of paint at it. The others had random little murals randomly painted in any space available. His eyes quickly found the source. A boy sat cross-legged on top of a desk across the room with his back turned to Keith. Jars of paint sat scattered across the desktop around him. His baggy sweater and jeans were stained with blue paint. He held a paintbrush in his hand and was expertly swiping it across an empty spot on the wall, his long strokes precise and sure. He had on a pair of big headphones, and even from here, Keith could hear his music blaring. The boy-he assumed this was Lance- was humming along with a song he didn't recognize. Cautiously he approached him, leaning down to tap his shoulder. Lance whipped around eyes wide in shock and paint brush flailing like a weapon. Keith looked down at the nice new blue stripe across his chest and frowned. That was going to be a bitch to clean out.

"Hey! What the hell was that for," he demanded. Lance slipped his headphones off to rest around his neck and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry about that. You scared me."

"Clearly," Keith deadpanned. He sighed as he hauled his suitcase over his shoulder and surveyed the room. There were two beds; one looked like a tornado had tried living in it. The other was neatly made. He walked over to the latter and threw his suitcase down, opening it to retrieve a new shirt. He looked back to see Lance staring at him. He glared at him.

"Do you mind," he growled. Lance held up his hands in surrender before picking up his paintbrush and turning back to his wall. Keith quickly slipped on the new clean shirt, tossing the other carelessly back in his suitcase. When he turned back around Lance was already staring at him, and he fought off the red trying to rise in his cheeks.

“So, what are you in for?” Keith glared over at him in response.

“None of your business,” he snapped. Lance stood up suddenly, hands on his hips and a frown on his face.

“Fine, whatever. I get it if you don't want to talk, but you don't have to be so rude about it.” Keith sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could already feel another headache coming on. They stood in an uncomfortable silence until finally he spoke again.

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly. A moment of hesitation passed before Lance’s face softened. He shrugged.

“Hey man, no need to apologize.” Keith shook his head.

“Yes there is. You've been trying to be nice to me and I'm just being a jackass. It was unnecessary and I'm sorry.” Lance grinned at him.

“Yeah. You were definitely a jackass.” Keith glared half-heartedly at him but Lance ignored it as he continued.

“But you're still pretty cute.” If looks could kill, Lance would be dead.

“Even if your hair is the most horrendous thing I've ever seen,” he finished, seemingly oblivious to the blushing angry mess Keith had become.

“W-whatever!” Lance laughed, loud and full, and something foreign fluttered in his stomach.

A little later they were finally escorted to lunch. On the way there, Lance gave him a quick rundown on the group of people he was supposedly about to meet. Aside from Lance, there were three other people in the makeshift family he was apparently being adopted into. Shiro, also known as “dad”, who had been here the longest out of the four of them. He was the leader of their group and acted very much like a doting father. He was also suffering from PTSD, Lance warned, so he should be sure to be careful about what he brings up in conversation with him as it could be triggering. Keith stored that information away for later so as not to accidently slip up. Then there was Lance’s best friend, Hunk. According to Lance, the guy was an overgrown teddy bear with a heart of pure gold. He was apparently here for a crippling anxiety and would often slip into days of severe paranoia. Lastly was Pidge, the youngest of the group. He had been told ahead of time to refer to Pidge as “they” and “them” unless he wanted to be punched in the face. Keith could respect that. They were in for an extreme case of OCD, and if he didn’t want to be brutally murdered in his sleep he should definitely avoid touching any of their equipment. Honestly, Keith was a little scared to meet Pidge.

The cafeteria greeted them with the excited buzz of conversation and bustling of people. If Keith didn’t know any better, he would think it was just like any other cafeteria scene. But he did no better. Everyone was in here for a reason. Some horrible reason. And he was right there with them, because there was something wrong with him; with his mind. And then there was Lance. He glanced over at him as they walked. He couldn’t get a read on this guy. He hadn’t been in this place for very long, but Lance seemed relatively normal. He seemed to be just an overall nice and happy person, and Keith couldn’t- for the life of him- figure it out.

After they grabbed something to eat, Lance lead them to a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, where three people were already seated with trays of food in front of them.

“Hey Lance. W-who’s the new guy,” a man stuttered as they sat down. He was big and looked like he could destroy Keith in 5 seconds flat, but his brown eyes were soft and he figured the guy wouldn’t dare even hurt a fly. He jolted when Lance threw a lazy arm over his shoulder.

“This is Keith, my new roommate. Keith, this is Hunk, Shiro, and Pidgeon,” Lance replied with a grin, pointing at each person as he listed them off. Pidge growled at their nickname, shooting him a glare. They pushed their round glasses up, before turning back to their food, grumbling irritably.

“Lance, you know I hate that name,” they accused. Lance just shrugged.

“Now, now. Be nice you two. Let’s not scare Keith away so soon.” They both looked away sheepishly as the third person spoke. Keith could see that the man was tall and very sturdily built. He couldn’t be that much older than his early twenties, but the dark circles under his eyes and the white streaks in his hair made him appear far older than his years. He practically radiated fatherly vibes as he scolded Pidge and Lance. Keith almost laughed.

“Ok dad. Honestly Shiro, you’re such a killjoy,” Lance teased. Shiro laughed as he shook his head in amusement. He squinted his eyes and hunched over.

“Boy, when I was your age, we respected our elders,” he said in an exaggerated old man’s voice. The table burst into fits of laughter. Keith chuckled as he picked at his food. He could already tell he was going to like this group, though at the moment he was feeling more than a little out of place. He could feel the family bonds these strangers had, and he couldn’t help but feel a little lonely. He wanted to remember if he had ever had anything like this…

“-Keith?” He snapped out of his thoughts. He looked over to Pidge who had been talking to him..

“I’m sorry, what?” He felt his cheeks heat up as Lance raised an eyebrow at him.

“I asked where you’re from,” Pidge repeated. He froze. He looked away, suddenly finding his tray of food very interesting.

“Keith, it’s ok if you don’t want to answer,” Shiro said gently. He looked up at him, a small grateful smile on his face, but shook his head.

“No, that’s ok. I’m just- uh… I’m still kinda grasping it all. I actually don’t remember where I came from… or much of anything really.” He looked down again, not wanting to see their shocked faces or pitying eyes. He felt Lance squeeze his shoulder comfortingly. They all sat in awkward silence for a while.

“That’s rough man. I’m sorry,” Hunk said finally, breaking the silence easily. Keith looked up at him and smiled slightly.

“Thanks. Hey, on the bright side, they said it should just be temporary. I’ll be back to normal in no time,” he declared, trying to lighten the mood. Shiro smiled at him and nodded in agreement.

“Until then, you can make yourself at home here with us. Welcome to our little family, Keith,” Pidge exclaimed cheerfully, reaching out to pat his arm. Lance gave him one last squeeze before slipping his arm back to his side.

“Yeah,” Lance agreed as he turned back to his food and began to munch away happily.

  
“Besides, I’m kinda stuck with you anyway. This will be fun. Maybe we can even help you with your memory problem,” he continued excitedly and Keith laughed despite himself. He glanced around the smiling group, all seeming far too happy and normal to be in a place like this. And he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He was already loving his new makeshift family. Soon, he settled into their comfortable conversation, joining the buzz of the cafeteria that seemed too normal. And he was happy, all thoughts of forgotten pasts gone for now, pushed to the back of his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I'm not so sure about this chapter. I'll probably go back later and fix a few things, but maybe not. I don't know yet. Anyway, I hope you like it!! :) And feel free to point out any mistakes I've made. Thanks!
> 
> WARNING!! I'M SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THIS BEFORE, BUT THIS CHAPTER MAY BE TRIGGERING!! THERE IS SELF-HARM
> 
> Also, it was brought to my attention that there is a part that may seem like the shipping of Shiro and Pidge. It is NOT. 
> 
> Thanks again :)

After lunch, Shiro lead the group to their next activity. The institution apparently had a pretty nice music room, with lots of the fancy instruments for them to mess around on. But the best part of the whole thing, according to Lance, was listening to Hunk’s playing. They refused to tell Keith the instrument, claiming it should be a surprise. He just shrugged in response. He didn't care much either way, considering he knew next to nothing about instruments. As they walked down the narrow hallway, he stuck close to Lance, taking comfort in his presence. He had been the first person in this place that he’d had any real interactions with and he felt safer with something he knew- or at least knew better than everything else.

When they reached the music room, Keith was stunned by the sheer size of it. It was huge, with tall blue walls covered in framed pictures and painted music notes, giving it a calm homely feel as he walked in. There was an abundance of instruments lining the room, from large wooden cellos to shining flutes. There were even a few stands scattered about, holding sheets of music. There were many chairs, but they had been pushed across the room against the walls, like they would have no need to sit down. He raised a brow. That didn’t make any sense to him, and suddenly he was curious as to how this whole thing usually went. A man stood in the center of the room, a large smile, and an even larger mustache adorning his face. Keith couldn’t help but notice the little splotches of paint on his cheeks, like he hadn’t quite gotten himself cleaned up from an art project beforehand. It didn’t seem to bother the man. He walked over to Keith as the rest of the group excitedly dispersed around the room.

“Well, hello there. Allura told me you would be here. I’m Coran, the music teacher of this fine institute,” he said in a thick accent he couldn’t quite place. He held out a hand and Keith took it dumbly in his own, giving it a loose shake.

“Keith,” he replied. His eyes scanned the room. He couldn’t believe they’d been able to afford so many instruments.

“Music has always been a good thing for people, something to relate to and channel your emotions into. Most patients tend to take a liking to this group therapy, so we put a lot of funding into it,” Coran explained as if reading his mind. Keith nodded. He couldn’t remember ever having played an instrument… not that he remembered much, but none of them seemed to strike out at him in particular. 

“Is there an instrument you’d like to learn to play, Keith?” He opened his mouth to respond when a soft sound pierced the air. He turned his eyes to the middle of the room where Hunk stood, a violin perched on his shoulder, seeming far too delicate and small in his huge hands. His eyes were closed as he drew the slender bow across the violin’s strings again. The rest of the room had quieted and they all stood off to the sides waiting expectantly.

“No thank you,” Keith responded as he hurriedly walked over to join Lance where he stood smiling softly. He held his breath as he looked over at Hunk and waited.

When the first notes played, his breath caught in his throat. The sweet sound that filled the room sent shivers down his spine. He listened intently to the sorrowful song that was strung. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, and he could practically feel the unsung words dancing around him in the air. 

“Care for a dance,” he heard Shiro whisper and he watched as the man gently lead Pidge into the middle of the room. They stood on top of his feet as they slowly began to move to the music. His movements were smooth and undisturbed by their weight on his shoes. The two of them twirled randomly around the room, but it seemed perfect for the song. Lance chuckled beside him before extending a hand.

“Want to join them?” Keith stared down at his hand for a second before carefully taking it in his own. Together, they fell into step beside Shiro and Pidge. Hunk laughed as he began to sway in place, looking more than happy with the world and at peace. Keith had to admit, as he spun around the room, they were an interesting sight. A tiny group of broken people, dancing to a beat that seemed to resonate in their hearts like magic. It was breathtaking. 

All too soon, the song was over, leaving the room in a heavy silence. But Hunk didn’t disappoint and continued onto his next song, something fast and upbeat that Keith had never heard before but the others seemed to know. Lance cheered next to him as he began clapping to it. The others followed his example, laughing and hollering as they began singing out their off key lyrics. 

“ _ The devil went down to Georgia, _

_ He was looking for a soul to steal, _ ” Lance sang. The others continued to cheer and clap as he continued. Keith clapped along with them. 

“ _ Johnny, you rosin’ up your bow _

_ And play your fiddle hard. _

_ ‘Cuz hell’s broke loose in Georgia _

_ And the Devil deals it hard. _

_ And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold. _

_ But if you lose, the Devil gets your soul. _ ” 

Coran ran up to him, holding out his arm. Keith took it and they set off in some clumsy form of square dancing, skipping around in circles that had Keith’s heart racing and his chest heaving with the laughter that shook his body. Pidge’s cheering got louder while their clapping got faster.

“ _ Fire on the mountain, _

_ Run boys run. _

_ The Devil’s in the house of the risin’ sun. _

_ Chicken in the bread pin, pickin’ out dough.  _

_ ‘Granny, does your dog bite?’ _

_ ‘No child no.”’ _

Hunk played out a quick impressive solo as all of them danced around him crazily. 

“ _ The Devil bowed his head because he knew that he’d been beat. _

_ He laid that golden fiddle on the ground at Johnny’s feet. _

_ Johnny said: ‘Devil, just come on back if you ever want to try again, _

_ I done told you once, you son of a bitch, I’m the best that’s ever been.”’ _

Shiro nudged Lance in the ribs, a grin wide on his face. 

“Language,” he mouthed. Lance just shook his head happily as he finished his song. They all erupted into wild cheers and jumping around as the song ended. They laughed and laughed until they were sore, and then some more. Coran clapped Keith on the shoulder.

“Nice dancing partner.” That just seemed to double them all over into more laughing fits. Keith wiped tears from his eyes as he tried to get his breathing back under control, though the others were making that quite difficult. 

“Is this what it’s always like around here,” he wondered aloud. Pidge grinned.

“More or less,” they chirped as they flopped down on the ground. Coran nodded his agreement. Keith chuckled as he looked around the room. He could get used to this light feeling in his chest. 

“Well, looks like it’s free time now. You can go do whatever it is you guys do now,” Coran announced after a few more songs. Lance stretched his arms above his head before he started heading for the door. 

“I, for one, am going to take a nap. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room,” he declared. Keith didn’t miss the worried look Coran gave him, but Lance waved it off, shouting a quick bye as he made his exit. 

“Pidge said they’d show me a new computer program they found, so I guess we’ll be in their room,” Hunk said as he followed Pidge from the room. Keith shuffled about awkwardly. He honestly didn’t know what he was going to do for the next couple hours. He had been kind of relying on Lance’s presence to keep him from uncomfortable situations like this. But now that he was gone, Keith felt more than a little lost. In the short time he’d been here, Lance had become a sort of lifeline for him to follow. But he supposed Lance had his own life here at the institution and couldn’t be there to hold Keith’s hand in socially awkward moments like this. 

“Uh… what exactly  _ is  _ there to do here?” Shiro chuckled. 

“Plenty. Here, I can show you around if you’d like. We can find something to do.” Keith nodded gratefully as he was lead out of the room. Coran waved them off.

“He’s really something else, huh?” 

“Coran? Oh yeah. He’s probably the most outgoing, quirky person here. When I first came here, his bright attitude was pretty overwhelming, but after a while you get used to it. You even come to depend on it,” Shiro explained softly. He was smiling and his eyes were distant, like he was reliving a fond memory he had. His face was so vulnerable like this. Keith almost felt like he were intruding in on something private that he shouldn’t be allowed to see. 

“So, how long  _ have _ you been here?” Shiro pressed a finger to his chin in thought.

“About six years I think? I’ve been here since I came back from the war, so quite a while,” he responded easily. Keith ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t imagine being able to stay here for so long.

Can I ask about the war,” he asked quietly. He felt Shiro tense slightly beside him and guiltily wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Finally the man sighed. He reached into the neck of his shirt and pulled out a pair of dog tags hanging on a metal chain. They looked like they’d been blown up, which they probably had been. 

“I was on a mission called Kerberos. We were a small group on the ground, fighting the battles no one else could. And we were  _ good _ ; like scary good,” he muttered. 

“It felt like we were on top of the world. I didn’t think our good luck would ever run out. But it did. We hit a landmine, and it blew up in our faces. Literally. It killed my whole team. I was the only one that got out with my life. But it wasn’t without a cost,” he said quietly as he rolled up his right sleeve. Keith’s eyes widened at the sight. Where there should have been flesh and bone, there was now only a cold metal replacement he could barely call an arm. He swallowed thickly, turning away from it.

“I’m sorry. I am  _ so  _ sorry. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.” He felt ashamed as he stopped walking, staring down at his shoes. He heard Shiro stop right beside him. Then he felt a strong, reassuring hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Shiro smiling. 

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m a lot better about it now. You don’t need to apologize. If you had asked me a few years ago, I would’ve gone into a full blown panic attack, but I’m okay now. I don’t mind talking about it. It even helps sometimes,” he stated firmly.

“Besides, you told us about your amnesia. It seems only fair I would tell you about my reason for being here.” Keith remained silent. Shiro chuckled slightly.

“You worry too much. C’mon, I’ll show you the art room.” Keith raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that look. It’ll be fun!” Keith may not remember anything about his past, but he’s pretty sure he’s not the artistic type. He stares down at his hands. Probably  _ far  _ from artistic. But, still he followed the older man, not really caring where they were going. He rather enjoyed his company.

Keith would never let Shiro live it down. Not as long as he remained in this place. 

“Aw! Little Shiro’s getting smitten over a girl!” He laughed as he watched said man’s face turn bright red to the tips of his ears. 

“S-shut up! I do not! I am a grown man damn it!” He wasn’t convinced.

“Shiro and Allura, sittin’ in a tree-” Shiro cut him off with a half-hearted glare before they both burst out laughing. 

“I must admit… that was pretty fun.” Shiro beamed at him, clearly pleased with his work. Keith rolled his eyes.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Keith’s whole free time had been spent in the art room watching Shiro and Allura interact while he scribbled random doodles. Dinner came shortly after and was over just as fast. Everything had passed by in a blur. But one thing stood out. Lance. Or at least, the lack thereof. Keith had been puzzled when he took his seat at the cafeteria table. Everyone had been accounted for except for Lance. But no one else seemed too bothered by it so he let it go.

It was only when he walked into their shared room that a deep sense of dread filled his stomach. He closed the door gently behind him as he walked in. His eyes automatically found Lance, who was sitting on the floor in front of his bed, back faced towards the door. Upon Keith’s arrival, he stiffened, one of his hands moving to shove something deep into his pocket. 

“What are you doing on the floor?” There was a long pause before Lance finally answered.

“Nothing.” Another pause. Suddenly he scrambled to his feet, whipping around to face him with his arms behind his back. He smiled, but somehow it didn’t quite seem to meet his eyes. They stared at each other.

“Welp, I gotta hit the little boy’s room. Be right back,” he declared as he hurried past him to the door.

“Wait, Lance.” Keith reached out and quickly snagged hold of Lance’s wrist. He froze when he felt something slick beneath his fingertips. He drew back, staring wide-eyed at his fingers as they came away red. He looked back down at Lance’s wrist. It was covered in cut marks. Some looked old, while others still bled fresh. He opened and closed his mouth, searching for anything to say, but his mind came up blank. He looked up to find Lance already staring at him with frightened eyes.

“I-I swear... it’s not what it looks like,” he stammered. Keith could only blink dumbly at him. His mind was ceasing to function properly as it went into overdrive. He’d figured Lance had to be in her for  _ some _ reason, but never would he have guessed something like this. Sure, he hadn’t known him for very long, but still. It was  _ Lance _ . The boy who had been cracking ridiculous jokes and singing and dancing only hours ago.

“Oh god. Oh my god. Please, you can’t tell them! You can’t tell them about this! Please, I am begging you!” Lance grabbed him by the shoulders, and he could feel the trembling in his hands as he stared into wide fearful eyes. He tried to ignore the blood still dripping from his cuts, but his eyes kept drifting back to them. He reached out and gently removed Lance’s hands and lead him over to his own bed. Without a word he sat him down while he continued his frantic pleading. Keith didn’t think he’d ever seen someone look so panicked.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said quietly as his heart broke for the mess of a boy in front of him. He opened his suitcase and began digging through his measly belongings. Finally he found what he was looking for and returned to Lance’s side, clutching tightly to his small roll of bandages. He handed them to Lance.

“Here. Hold onto these while I go get some wet towels or something.” The other boy quieted as he stared down at the bandages and nodded. With that, Keith rushed out the door in search of the nearest bathroom, his heart pounding a thousand miles a minute in his ears. 

**_God, what have I gotten myself into?_ **


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!  
> This contains descriptions of cutting, scars, and depression that may hit close to some people. Please be careful reading this and know you are loved!

Keith’s heart thundered in his ears as he dashed down the hallway, his heavy footsteps reverberating against the walls. He clung tightly to his wet rags, not caring about the cold feeling of water dripping down his arms.

“Keith? What on earth are you doing?” His stomach dropped as he abruptly skidded to a stop, turning to face Allura. She was frowning at him, her eyes wandering to the sopping wet towels. He chuckled nervously.

“Hey. Uh, Lance spilled some paint and asked me to get something to clean it up,” he explained and hoped he sounded convincing. Allura raised a slender brow. She sighed and smiled warmly at him.

“I don't know how many times I've told him to be careful. It's hard to get out of the carpets. Do you want any help?” Keith shook his head and smiled. It felt fake as his mind drifted back to bleeding boy he desperately wanted to get back to.

“No, that's ok.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, jerking a thumb over his shoulder behind him.

“Well I should probably get going then.” Allura nodded, calling a cheerful “goodnight” as he hurried on.

When he reached their room, he wasted no time throwing the door open, his eyes immediately seeking Lance out. The other boy sat on his bed slumped against the colorful wall, loosely gripping his arm with red-stained fingers. Keith quickly closed the door behind him before rushing to his side.

Lance allowed him to pry his fingers from his arm, pulling it into his lap to examine the cuts. The bleeding had slowed down considerably and was only now sluggishly dripping. He hissed quietly as Keith pressed a wet cloth to his arm. He kept his eyes down. Keith winced sympathetically as he tried to dab at the cuts as gently as he could. He tried to ignore the various marks revealed as more blood was cleaned away, dark and long since healed.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Lance finally looked up, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“You literally have nothing to be apologizing for. If anything I should be sorry. I didn’t want you walking in on that.” There was a pause.

“Sometimes I just get this sudden _need_. It’s like I can’t function properly if I don’t have some sort of pain grounding me, you know?” Keith didn’t know, but he nodded anyway. He hoped he would never have to know a dependence on something like that. He frowned.

“How did you even do this to yourself? Don’t they check bags and rooms for stuff that can be used to… well, this?” Lance chuckled, though the sound was anything but happy and it sent a chill down his spine.

“Yeah they do. But we’re allowed pencils.” Lance motioned with his free hand to a spot on the floor. There a pencil lay discarded on the floor, it’s tip colored brown with caked blood, long since dried. His stomach twisted into knots and he suddenly felt nauseous. Lance had his head bowed low, like he was being crushed. And who knew? Maybe he was.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said again, quieter this time. Lance shook his head and another silence fell upon them.

“Thank you. For helping me I mean. You didn’t have to.” Keith snorted.

“I wasn’t going to let you just sit here and bleed out,” he retorted. Lance glared at him.

“It wasn’t that bad. And I would’ve taken care of it myself,” he snapped. Keith’s eyes widened at the shift in tone and lifted his hands up defensively.

“I’m sorry!” He mentally kicked himself. How many times was he going to apologize to this guy in one night? He cautiously reached for where Lance was still clutching the roll of bandages in his lap. He gently pried them from his fingers and unrolled them. He laid one end across the top of Lance’s injured arm. When he didn’t pull away, Keith took that as an okay sign.

“This may sting a little,” he warned. Lance nodded but didn’t say a word. His shifts in mood were really beginning to unnerve him. As carefully as he could, he began wrapping them around his arm, making sure they weren’t too tight. He did his work quietly, letting his hands move with an eerie deftness he didn’t know he possessed. It made him wonder again about his mysterious past, and he soon found his mind wandering.

_Old bandages littered the floor, and the smell of sweat filled the air. He could taste the coppery blood in his mouth. He could feel every aching bruise as he moved, and the pull of sore muscles. When he’d first started training, he had hated every minute of it, but now it pumped him full of adrenaline and he was practically buzzing with excitement. It wouldn’t be long now._

“-eith! Keith!” He jolted and frantically looked around the room before his eyes finally settled on Lance, who was staring at him nervously. Lance’s arm was stretched between them, his hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder. He stared at it. The same arm he had just bandaged. So familiar…

“Are you ok?” The other’s voice sounded quiet compared to the pounding of his own heart in his ears. He gave what he hoped was a convincing smile.

“Yeah. I-I’m fine. Just kinda zoned out for a moment.” He didn’t look convinced. Keith fidgeted awkwardly with the hem of his shirt before clearing his throat.

“Well, the bandages should be ok for now. I can help you change them when you need to,” he said. The atmosphere had suddenly grown very uncomfortable for him.

“Thanks.” Silence.

“Can I ask why you started, you know,” Keith gestured at his freshly wrapped arm. Lance rubbed a thumb gently over the fabric. His eyes were sad, and Keith immediately regretted asking. He opened his mouth to say he didn’t have to share, but Lance cut him off.

“It’s ok. I’m here to get better aren’t I? To come to terms with it and accept it? How can I do that if I keep tiptoeing around it?” He took a deep breath and Keith waited patiently for him to continue. He didn’t know why Lance seemed to trust him so much, but who was he to take that away from him? He would gladly lend an ear and a shoulder if that’s what he needed.

“My mom called it teenage angst at first. But as time went on, and more… _symptoms_ started appearing, we both knew it was something else. I wasn’t getting better. I wasn’t happy doing _anything_ anymore. But there wasn’t anything she could do. Not with him th-” He stopped and shook his head.

“Nevermind that. I shouldn’t have felt this way when I had such a good life, but I did. And it slowly got worse and worse. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much everything _hurt_ . But it wasn’t a pain I could touch. It was always there, but lurking in my mind where I couldn’t reach it. I needed something _real_. I needed a pain I could control, and eventually I found it. I found the courage to pick up a knife. And when I started, I couldn’t stop. It’s as simple as that.”

“I became a canvas.I found a way to speak, with blood and pictures, to say something that was too painful for words. I was addicted to it. Every part of me bore a mark.” Unconsciously, Keith’s eyes began to roam, trying to map out the story Lance had marked upon himself. He traced every line. His eyes found every visible scar and his heart seemed to be crushing in on itself as he felt the pain Lance spoke with. He didn’t know how to respond to Lance’s words. He didn’t know how something so purely felt could possibly be put into words of their own.

His eyes landed on one particular scar, and he didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it before now. It was strikingly pale against his dark skin, resting just above his collarbone in the hollow of his neck. His stomach dropped and he quickly averted his eyes. He didn’t dare ask for it’s story; unsure he even wanted to hear it.

He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but Keith slowly reached out, taking his bandaged arm and cradling it in his hands. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the the cloth. Something stirred in his chest and he growled. He would protect this boy with his every breath. They sat like that for a while, neither uttering a single word, and soon enough they both drifted off into a peaceful sleep, finding solace in the other’s company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was a bit shorter than the others. Hope you liked it! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is shorter than the rest. I'll hopefully have a longer one next time. I struggled a bit with this one. :(
> 
> Also, I want to thank everyone who has been following this story! Thanks so much for all the support and lovely comments! And I hope my fic continues to live up to your expectations! :)

    _“Good job,_ son _. I think you’re almost ready.” He shuddered- whether it was from fear or excitement he didn’t know. Finally, after years of merciless training, he was ready to join the playing field; ready to join his father, and take his place in the world._

    Keith jolted up. He was covered in a sheen of cold sweat and his shoulders were shaking as he tried to control his ragged breathing. His mind was racing as the last remnants of his dream was lost to him. “Son”. It had sounded so _wrong_ , and it left a foul taste in his mouth. He ran a trembling hand through his hair as he took in the room. He was sitting up in bed… a bed that wasn’t his own. A weight shifted against his hip and he looked down to find Lance curled into his side, a limp arm draped loosely over his waist. Heat flooded his cheeks and his heart hammered.

    Lance was so animated in everything he did. Keith’s mind flashed to the night before. The other boy’s face had been so _sad_ \- No. Sad didn’t even cover it. Lance’s eyes had been _screaming_ . Lance gave his all to everything; even in sleep. He was calm right now. His brow had smoothed, his face lax. His breathing was even. He looked like the _embodiment_ of peaceful. It was almost hard to believe that just hours before he had been crumbling.

    He took a deep breath. Something strange fluttered in his chest as he watched Lance’s sleeping face. He glanced across the room to where his own bed was pushed against the opposite wall. The sheets were tucked in and undisturbed. It looked comfortable; probably more comfortable than having a practical koala attached to him. And yet, he didn’t really feel like moving. He reached out a hesitant hand and carefully rested it on top of Lance’s head. His hair was surprisingly soft.

    He sighed. He was awake now, which meant there was no excuse for him to stay. Plus it would be super awkward when Lance woke up; for both of them. He figured that was a conversation they’d be better off not having. After he stewed for a while- debating the pros and cons of just staying- he took Lance’s arm and gently slipped it from his waist, careful not to wake him. He begrudgingly stood up and wandered to his own bed. He threw back the covers and climbed in, burrowing deep into the cold blankets. Hopefully they would warm up soon. He looked over at Lance from across the room before letting his eyes slip closed. He still had at least a few hours before he had to be up and getting ready for the day.

    He was woken up by someone shaking him. He groaned irritably and rolled over, pulling his blankets up over his head. He was so not ready to be up. Whoever was pestering him, however, seemed to think he should be.

    “Keith. C’mon man, it’s time to get up. Allura’s going to be here any minute, and she’ll _drag_ you to breakfast if she has to.” Keith frowned. He still didn’t want to get up, but he had no doubt Allura would _literally_ drag him out of bed if he didn’t. He had only been here a little over a day, and he already thought Allura was scary. He sighed and pushed back the covers, blinking at the sudden brightness. He looked up to see Lance smiling down at him. Keith’s eyes flitted to the other’s bandaged arm. It was hidden under long sleeves. He averted his eyes.

    He got dressed in a hurry and soon they were out the door. Allura greeted them in the hallway on her way to get everyone. Lance smiled pleasantly at her and Keith gave her a small wave. He peeked over at Lance as they made their way into the cafeteria. He _seemed_ okay, but Keith wasn’t eager to replay last night. He would be sure to keep an eye on him. He didn’t know why he was feeling so protective over his lanky roommate, but he somehow felt responsible for him now. Keith discreetly glanced over again, allowing his shoulder to brush over the other’s quick enough that it wouldn’t be noticed. Lance was still here. He wasn’t in their room bleeding out all over the bed. He wasn’t curled up crying. He was physically right here beside him, smiling again, and everything felt _right_.

    They sat down at the same table as yesterday, where Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk were already sitting, chatting happily over their potatoes and eggs. Keith was practically drooling over his own tray of food. It looked delicious. Better than microwave meals and field rations anyday… He blinked a couple times. Where had _that_ come from? He shook his head.

    “You okay there, Keith,” Pidge asked. They sounded concerned. He gave them a small smile and nodded.

    “Of course.” He looked over at Lance who was giving him a weird look like he didn’t quite believe him. Keith looked away quickly, turning his attention back to his breakfast with more intensity than was probably necessary. It didn’t last. Soon, his mind began to wander away from his food.

    _There was a man. His face was scarred and his eyes were narrowed and piercing. He towered over him, and Keith felt himself shaking. Who was this man? What did he want? Keith backed up a few steps. Should he run? He should find his parents. They were around here somewhere, weren’t they?_

_The world went black._

    “Keith? Hey, Keith! Buddy, are you okay?” He blinked and slowly looked up. Lance was standing over him, his face pulled down in worry. Keith frowned from where he lay sprawled out on the floor. Lance reached out and grabbed his hand, hefting him up and holding him steady while the world spun.

    “What happened?”

    “We were hoping you could tell _us_. You suddenly stood up only to topple right over,” Shiro said. Hunk clapped a hand on his shoulder while Pidge fluttered around them looking for some way to help.

    “We should probably get you to the infirmary and get your head checked out.” Keith nodded and together they all made their way from the cafeteria. Keith could feel many eyes on him as they left.

    _“You can’t hide from me, boy.”_ A shiver went down his spine. He was starting to remember… _something_ at least. He looked down at his hands, taking in every detail he could. They were rough and calloused, probably from years of… well, _who knows what_? A slender scar across his left palm was shiny and dark, like it had never really had the chance to heal properly. His knuckles, too, were darker than the rest of the surrounding skin as if they had been busted open over and over again. His stomach clenched. What if he didn’t _want_ to remember?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Brief reference to Lance's cuts from previous chapter
> 
> Sorry I haven't updated for awhile :(
> 
> Thanks to Jorden for getting my ass in gear!! ;)
> 
> Keith's memories will be in bold and italicized from now on.
> 
> I know this chapter was supposed to have more about Lance, but instead it turned into a kind of filler chapter, but I swear next one will have lots of good stuff!!

Keith groaned as he rubbed his throbbing temples. He was sitting up on an infirmary bed, pretending to listen to the nurse as her voice droned on in his head. His friends were crowding around him, all wearing varying looks of concern. He squeezed his eyes shut. Everything was so  _ loud _ . He felt Lance’s hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles into the fabric there. Hunk had another hand on his shoulder as he talked with the nurse. Their voices were like blaring alarms, making his head hurt, but he couldn’t make out a single word. 

“Too loud, too loud,” he mumbled as he clutched his head tighter. More voices. Someone was saying his name? He pried his eyes open and was met with a familiar face, very much in his personal space. 

“Lance.”  _ Too close. _

“Hey, are you okay?” A pair of hands framed the sides of his face and he drew in a deep breath. He reached up and grabbed his wrists, but didn’t pull them away.

“‘M fine, Lance.” His hands were cool against his burning skin and Keith found himself leaning into the other’s touch. It felt… different, like something new. It was nice.

_ ‘ _ **_His hands burned where raw skin met the ground. His legs were shaking. He just wanted to stop. Stop running, stop training, stop hurting. Just stop. His clenched fists shook and he watched with detached fascination as blood dripped between the creases in his skin. Just keep moving. It’ll all be over soon.’_ **

“Hey! Keith! C’mon man, you need to calm down!” He blinked. His hands were shaking. His knuckles were white as he gripped Lance’s wrists in a steel grip. He could feel the thick wrapped bandages underneath his long sleeves. His eyes widened and he quickly let go.

“Oh my god, I-I’m so sorry!” Lance smiled down at him, though Keith didn’t miss his wince as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t give yourself too much credit. You’re not as strong as you look,” he joked. Maybe Keith would’ve believed him if he wasn’t frowning. Maybe he would’ve believed him if his brow wasn’t pinched in pain.

“Sorry,” he mumbled under his breath. Lance’s expression softened and he patted Keith’s shoulder.

“Did you remember something,” Pidge piped up. Their eyes were wide with worry. Keith considered it for a moment. Bits and pieces were coming back to him. Images that didn’t make sense. Pain that wasn’t his own… except it  _ was _ . It was  _ his _ . He was remembering… something. He wasn’t sure  _ what  _ it was. He was remembering, but he didn’t like it. 

“No. Sorry, I just zoned out,” he said quietly, averting his eyes. The nurse came up to stand before him and gave him a skeptical look before handing him a small bottle. He raised a questioning brow.

“For the headaches,” she explained simply and tapped his forehead. 

“If they get any worse, let me know.” Keith nodded. 

“Thank you.” He stood up and walked to the door, trying to ignore the eyes following him. He glanced back over his shoulder at the group. They all looked so scared for him. Something twisted uncomfortably in his stomach. Shame. He didn’t need them worrying about him. They all had it worse, with their own problems to worry about. He met Lance’s eyes and sighed.

“Really, I’m okay. Okay?” Pidge shifted uncomfortably. No one said a word. 

“I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.” He didn’t wait for the response that probably wouldn’t even come. Without sparing another glance, he left the room. He hurried down the halls. He avoided as many people as he could, taking back stairways and empty hallways. The world felt like it was closing in. His headache flared painfully with every pounding step he took. He needed air. He knew he wouldn’t be going back to their his and Lance’s room.

“Keith!” He sighed and stopped where he was. He didn’t need to look back to know who it was. He waited for the running footsteps to catch up to him before finally turning around with an annoyed frown.

“I want to be alone,” he said. Pidge rolled their eyes and crossed their arms over their chest. 

“You assume I actually care?” It was Keith’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Not really, no.” Pidge smirked at him as they began walking again, side by side. Silence fell over them as they both fumbled for something to say. Pidge sighed.

“You seemed really shaken back there. Are you sure you’re okay?” Keith ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m fine. I just… Is there a place where we can go outside? I just need some air,” he replied. Pidge didn’t look satisfied with his answer. They frowned but took his hand and lead him down the halls.

“They have a courtyard for us. Not many of us use it when we don’t have to, for obvious reasons. The outside world is a scary place. It’s much easier to just stay inside all day.” They shuddered. Keith frowned, another twinge of guilt pulling at his insides.

“You don’t have to come with me,” he said. They shook their head.

“It’ll be good for me. It’s not like I  _ want _ to stay here the rest of my life,” they said with an indifferent shrug. Keith wasn’t convinced as their hold on him tightened slightly. Finally, they made it to a pair of glass doors. Pidge refused to look out as they turned to face him. 

“Ready?” He was pretty sure the question was more for them than for him, but he nodded anyway. Pidge took a deep breath before pushing through the doors to the outside. Keith was surprised by how nice it looked in the courtyard. The area was surrounded by swirling intricate metal gates to keep them in the yard. The grass was trimmed and green. All around were varying flower bushes in full bloom. There were winding stone paths and benches to sit on. The yard was a beautiful mess of colors, and Keith couldn’t help but wonder why no one liked coming out here. There was only one other person out here besides them, leaning over and trimming plants.

He looked over to Pidge. They were looking down at their feet while they walked, focusing on anything but the world around them. Their shoulders were shaking as they took deep breaths.

“The world is too chaotic. There’s no order. No rhyme or reason to anything. It’s all a mess,” they said quietly. He didn’t know what to say, so instead he rested a hand on their shoulder and squeezed.

“We can go back in if you want.” They let out a breathy laugh.

“What would be the point of coming out here if I just went right back in? Let’s find a bench. I want to sit down,” they said. Keith lead them to one of the benches. They sat down. It was next to a rosebush. He reached out and ran his fingers over their soft petals. A small smile graced his lips. Pidge eyed him carefully. 

“You seem so… awed of everything,” they said slowly. He shrugged. It was true. Everything seemed so… new. Logically he knew that was weird. After all, he woke up knowing what flowers were. He hadn’t forgotten what these things were. But they still felt different, like he had never really had the chance to stop and smell the roses. He chuckled to himself as he leaned over and inhaled the sweet aroma. 

“You’re so weird,” Pidge said as they watched him. He grinned at them and shrugged again.

“They smell good.” They both laughed. He stretched and slumped against the back of the bench as he watched the lone man go about his gardening. He turned to them and tipped his hat with a stiff smile. Pidge waved politely before turning back to Keith with a sly grin.

“So… you and Lance, huh?” His eyes widened as he stared at her incredulously. 

“What? W-what about me and Lance,” he stuttered. Pidge raised an eyebrow and smirked. They crossed their arms behind their head and leaned back.

“Oh nothing. You two just seem to be really hitting it off,” they sang. He felt heat creeping to his cheeks as he spluttered indignantly. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” he demanded. Pidge shrugged, knowing grin still in place. They didn’t give any other response as they closed their eyes.

“I think the sun’s getting to you. Your face is turning pretty red,” they teased. He glared at the half heartedly. 

“Whatever. You’re just mean. I thought you were supposed to be my friend.” They continued their back and forth jaunty banter for a while, both just enjoying their time away from their lives, letting themselves forget everything but this moment with the roses… Both oblivious to the eyes watching from a distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pidge and Keith are my Brotp XD


	6. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm sorry to anyone who was actually looking forward to another chapter, but I will have to disappoint. I cannot finish this story. I have very much so enjoyed writing this for you all, but I have lost all motivation to continue. I am quite proud of this story, but I don't feel as though I've done it the justice I wanted for it. These characters and this AU both deserve better, and I feel as though that's something I can't give to them. I'm very glad a lot of you seemed to enjoy it, and I thank you for all the support you've given me. It has been an honor. I don't know if I've ever had so much fun writing a fic. You all made it so worth while. Thank you so much :)

Instead of finishing this multi-chapter story, I might end up writing a bunch of one-shots centered around the paladins' lives in the mental institution. Just short little stories, as that is what I seem to be best at. Again, I am so unbelievably sorry for this, but I just cannot continue. 

***However, if anyone is interested in finishing this story themselves just let me know, or something I guess. I'm sure plenty of you could do more for it than I ever could. Thanks and sorry again***

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Next chapter we'll learn more about why Lance is here.


End file.
